


Bonded 4

by Creej



Series: Bonded [4]
Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 10:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12274221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: Someone has been watching Elizabeth for a long time. When she's taken, it's up to Peter and Neal to find her and bring her home.





	Bonded 4

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know, terrible title. Anyway, as with others in this series, mental communication is involved and, as with the others, to avoid reader confusion, Peter's thoughts will be denoted by a "-", Neal's by a "*" and Elizabeth's by a "+". There is also a minor Criminal Minds crossover with a nod to qwanderer's Voice of the Moon.

Elizabeth shut her laptop down with a frustrated sigh. It was late and the last thing she wanted to think about was her latest client-from-hell who refused to pay for anything that she deemed less than perfect. On top of that, she was constantly changing her mind and the guest list seemed to change almost hourly. The only thing she was satisfied with was the venue.

-Rough day?-

+You don't know the half of it.+

*I'll have a glass of wine waiting for you when you get home. Red or white?*

+Red please. I'll be home soon.+

It was with a sense of relief that she shut off the lights and grabbed her keys, looking forward to getting home and relaxing with a glass of wine with her husband and his lover. She smiled at the thought. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined the course her life would take before Neal became a part of it - first as a case file, then as her husband's CI and partner then finally as her friend and Peter's lover - and the bond they shared certainly kept things interesting.

As she was locking up, some sixth sense told her something was off but before she could react, a hand clamped over her mouth and she smelled chloroform before the world went away.

+Peter...+

 

-El?-

*Elizabeth?*

Neal almost dropped the bottle of wine he was preparing to open and looked at Peter wide eyed, seeing the same expression on his partner's face.

"Something's wrong," Peter said, his voice trembling.

"Did you see anything?" Neal asked.

"Not really," Peter said. "You?"

"A reflection...maybe?" Neal said, uncertainly.

"Yeah, that's all I got," Peter said. He scrubbed his face and even without the bond, Neal knew how frightened and helpless Peter felt.

"We'll find out what happened, Peter," Neal said. He pulled his partner over to sit on the couch and held him close. For all the times Peter had been there for him - Kate's death, Mozzie's shooting, Ellen's murder - it was his turn to be Peter's anchor. "As hard as it will be, you can't think like a husband," he said. "You have to think like a cop, like an agent. You know as soon as she can, she'll let us know." When Peter nodded, pulling himself together, Neal continued, "So, a crime has been committed, what do you do?"

"Look at the evidence," Peter said. "She was outside her office, locking up. She was probably chloroformed, taken in what the profilers call a blitz attack."

"He was prepared," Neal said. "He had to have been watching for a while since her hours are almost as irregular as ours. He knew she was alone."

"But was she targeted specifically or was she a target of opportunity?" Peter asked.

"I'd say targeted specifically," Neal said. "There had to have been plenty of women who were alone this time of night that he could have taken but he chose Elizabeth for some reason."

"My first thought is this is payback," Peter said. "I put a lot of people away." Tears pricked his eyes. "If something happens to her..."

"Peter..." Neal pulled him into an embrace. "We'll know if something happens, you know that."

"I can't lose her, Neal," Peter said a little brokenly.

"You won't," Neal said. " _We_ won't. We'll find her."

"I need to report her missing," Peter said, standing and heading for the phone.

"Peter, you know they won't start looking right away," Neal said. "She's only been missing for maybe ten minutes...they'll think she's stuck in traffic, run off..."

"But she didn't!"

"We know that," Neal said. "But they won't and they'll never believe how we know. They'd suspect you first. They always look at the spouse first." He sighed. "I'm worried too, you know that," he said. "But thinking the worst won't get us anywhere." He stood and went into the kitchen, getting two glasses and the bottle of Scotch Peter kept in the cupboard. "Now, until we hear something from the police or Elizabeth all we can do is wait," he said, pouring for both of them.

"I don't want to get drunk," Peter said as Neal handed him a glass.

"I wouldn't let you," Neal said. "But you need to calm down, settle your nerves." He gave him a light, almost chaste kiss. "We'll find her," he said again.

About ten minutes later, they were startled by a knock on the door and Peter set his nearly full glass down. Opening the door, he found a police officer. "Officer, what can I do for you?"

"You're Peter Burke?" At Peter's nod, he continued, "We responded to a call at Burke Premier Events..."

"That's my wife's company," Peter said. "What's going on?"

"When we got there, we found what we assume is your wife's purse and this stuck to the door." The officer handed Peter a bag containing Elizabeth's purse and a plain white envelope with Peter's name and address.

"Neal..."

Neal dug into the pocket of Peter's suit jacket and retrieved a pair of latex gloves he kept there and passed them to Peter.

"You a cop?"

"FBI agent, New York white collar division," Neal answered as Peter pulled on the gloves and opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper that read:

_You've had her long enough. Elizabeth is mine now._

"Peter...?"

"I...don't know," Peter said. He took a deep breath. "If you have no objection, I'd like my team brought into the investigation."

"You know you can't be actively involved," the officer said. "You're too close."

"I said my team, not me," Peter said.

*As if you'd stay out of it...* Neal grabbed Peter's phone and scrolled through the contacts.

"Kidnapping is an FBI matter," the officer said. "The case is yours." The officer touched his hat in goodbye. "Good luck sir."

Five minutes later, Neal hung up. "Diana and Jones are on their way to the office," he said. "Let's go."

+Peter? Neal?+

-El! Oh thank God! Where are you?-

+Mmm...not sure...dark.+

-What do you remember?-

+Locking up to go home, putting my keys away...then...I smelled something...chloroform...someone took me.+

-Yeah. Did you see him?-

+Not really. Hardly any reflection in the door.+

*Still groggy?*

+Mmm, yeah. Bit of a headache too.+

*That's the chloroform.*

+How long before it wears off?+

*Well, you were taken about half an hour ago so maybe another ten, depending on the dose.*

"So she can't be that far from her offices," Peter said.

"Somewhere in Midtown," Neal said. "See? We know a lot more then we did ten minutes ago." As they left, Neal grabbed the bag with Elizabeth's purse and the note. That late, traffic was light and they made good time to the Federal Building, feeling Elizabeth becoming more aware and coherent.

+Okay, let's see what I can see.+ As Peter and Neal waited for the elevator, Elizabeth reached for a lamp she saw - a darker shadow against the near blackness. +What the...?+

"Looks almost like...a hotel room," Neal said, surprised.

+Certainly not what I was expecting.+

The scene before them was of a richly appointed room with a king size bed, lush carpeting, heavy drapes and wood furniture. Off to the side was an en suite bathroom with a tub large enough for two and a marble vanity with a beveled mirror.

*What's that? Near the door.*

+Let me see...oh...I think it's a...dumbwaiter?+

-Huh.-

 

Diana descended the stairs, seeing Peter and Neal enter the bullpen. "Elizabeth's been taken?" she asked.

"Yeah, police found her bag...and this," Peter said, handing her the items. He flinched a little, feeling Elizabeth's frustration and anger.

+Damned door's locked. Won't budge.+

Neal detoured to his desk and grabbed the sketchpad he always kept there along with a handful of pencils.

+Neal?+

*Look out the window and show me what you see.*

Elizabeth was silent for a moment. +Are you sure?+

-Diana suspects something I think. We've slipped enough times and it's easy enough to prove.- Peter beckoned Jones up to join them in the conference room.

*We're doing this now?*

-Yeah. Let's get it over with and get to work.-

"Boss, you know you can't be anywhere near this," Diana said. "You either, Neal. You're both too close."

"I know that," Peter said. "But there's something you two should know. You won't believe me if I just told you so we'll have to show you."

"Show us what?" Jones asked.

Peter exchanged a glance with Neal, who nodded. "Jones, if you'd go with Neal to interrogation..."

"What's this about?" Diana asked as Peter stepped into his office for a pad of paper and a pen.

Peter seated himself at the conference room table. "Tell me to write something, anything," he said. "Neal will write it as well. Then Jones will tell Neal to write something and I'll write it too." He sighed. "Neal, Elizabeth and I have a bond that goes well past just knowing how the others think. We can actually _hear_ each other think, feel what the others feel..." He paused, at a loss for words. "It's like we're in each others heads," he said. "We have...a direct link, I guess, to each others senses." He sat forward a little. "I know it's almost impossible to believe and I don't blame you or Jones for not being able to...but we're prepared to prove it. So...what do I write?"

Looking extremely skeptical, Diana sat across from him and said, "Okay, old typing exercise: the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." When Peter finished writing and looked at her expectantly, she said, "Now, the first five prime numbers."

"Now, it's Neal's turn," Peter said as he finished.

 

In interrogation with Jones, Neal finished writing and said, "Your turn."

Looking as skeptical as Diana had, Jones shrugged. "All right, the first line of _A Tale of Two Cities_."

"You like the classics," Neal said as he wrote. "A man after my own heart." When he finished a few minutes later, he looked at Jones and said, "Something else."

"The square roots of nine, eighty one, sixteen and forty nine."

"Now, we go compare with what Peter wrote," Neal said, standing.

"I'm glad you remember _A Tale of Two Cities_ ," Peter said when Neal and Jones entered. "I haven't read it since high school."

"Jones?" Diana asked, seeing her colleague start but Jones said nothing.

"Yeah, but you got prime numbers," Neal said. "I got square roots."

"Hey, he'd probably have given me the square of pi," Peter said.

"Because you're a math geek," Neal said.

+Boys...+

Peter sighed and placed the two pages side by side. "Like a said, we have a bond, not only with each other but with El," he said. "She may be a prisoner but she can feed us information on where she is and who has her."

"How did this...bond happen?" Diana asked.

"We haven't figured that out," Neal said. "But it's how I found Peter when McClelland took him a few years ago."

"When El was taken hostage by that bank robber we were in the area because we knew something was wrong, not because we were following a lead," Peter said.

"And it's how Peter found me when Jensen's goon took me to The Bronx," Neal said. He tapped the pages. "How else do you explain this? You know there's no line of sight between here and interrogation, no way either of us could have heard you. We saw what each other saw, heard what each other heard."

Diana looked between them for a moment. "She can hear us?" she asked.

"And see you," Peter said.

Neal pulled his sketchpad over and began drawing. "Right now, this is what she sees," he said as he worked.

"But..." Jones started.

"I know, no way to verify until we find her," Neal said. "I know you still find it a little hard to trust me and that's okay but you know I'd never lie to you about something like this."

"No...we do trust you, Neal," Diana said. "It's just..."

"Hard to believe, I know," Neal said. "From what we could tell, she's somewhere in Midtown. She was taken sometime around nine o'clock as she was closing and we first heard from her about half an hour later."

"Even that time of night, she couldn't have been taken far," Jones said. "But Midtown's a big area."

Neal went to another page, sketching rapidly. "This is the view out the window," he said. He paused as if listening.

"Lexan," Peter said. "As near as she can tell. She says it's not regular window glass."

Diana indicated the sketchbook and raised her brows in question. Quick as ever, Neal removed the previous page and slid it over to her.

"Not many places use Lexan," Jones said. "Mostly prisons and manufacturing."

"This place looks old," Diana said.

"You know architecture and design?" Neal asked.

"I'm the daughter of diplomats," Diana said. "I've seen and stayed in my share of historical buildings."

"Lots of places in Midtown fit that description," Peter said. "Hotels, apartment buildings, single family homes."

"I think we can rule out hotels," Neal said. "Holding a person in such a public place would raise a lot of questions."

 

Elizabeth only kept half an ear on the discussion in the white collar offices as she prowled around the room. A check of the bathroom window showed her that getting out that way was out of the question. She looked out, discovering she was at least a floor up. +Peter, Neal, no go on the bathroom.+ She opened a closet, surprised to find it full of high end fashion...in her size. +Okay, that's really creepy.+

-El?-

+He has the closet full of clothes in my size....Peter...I think he's been watching us for a while.+

*Any idea who?*

+Do you have any idea how many people I meet in my line of work?+

-No one that sticks out? Made you uncomfortable?-

Elizabeth sighed, shutting the closet. +None that come to mind.+

-El, we _will_ find you. And you can help.-

+ _How?_ I can't even get out of the damned room!+

-You're not alone. You know that. And you are helping. From what you showed us so far, we know that you're probably in Midtown, in a building that's at least a century old.-

+That's a lot of places.+

-I know but not many places would have Lexan windows. Now, what else can you tell us about where you are?-

Elizabeth calmed herself. +Okay, I seem to be on the second floor. Maybe third. I don't know much about nineteenth century architecture so it's hard to be sure.+

*Most old buildings don't stick with the eight foot ceilings that modern ones do so it's probably the second floor.*

-Anything else?-

+Heavy furniture...wallpaper...huh...not really paper, heavy, thick, embossed. Marble vanity and tub in the bathroom...electric light fixtures but they look like gas lamps I've seen in pictures.+

*Let me see, Elizabeth. I can draw it for Diana and Jones instead of describing it.*

 

The sun rose as Elizabeth slowly surveyed the room for Neal. She knew she should get some (undrugged) sleep but she was too keyed up. So she was startled when she heard a click followed by, "Hello Elizabeth."

She searched for the source of the voice and found it coming from what she'd assumed to be a radio on the bedside table. "Hello?"

"Do you like your room?"

Elizabeth lowered herself into a chair and said calmly, "It's lovely."

"I knew you'd like it. You have excellent taste...unlike your husband."

"And what do you know of my husband?"

"I know he doesn't deserve you, spending all that time being an agent instead of a husband, paying more attention to criminals than he does to you."

"His job is important to him," Elizabeth said. "I knew that when I married him."

"More important than you, it seems."

"I know that's not true."

"Oh Elizabeth, think about it. How many nights has he left you alone while he was chasing some criminal, especially that pretty boy conman, Caffrey?"

"What do you know about Neal?"

"He's a criminal and always will be. He's conning you, has been for years."

"You think I'm not smart enough to see through a con?"

"I think you're too trusting."

"If you don't trust, you'll always be alone." Elizabeth said. "My husband loves me and Neal is my friend." There was no answer to that so she said, "Since it appears I'm going to be here for a while..."

"You're not going to leave! I won't let you!" The voice became conciliatory. "I'll take care of you. You won't want for anything. I'll make you forget you ever had Peter Burke for a husband."

"As I said, since it appears I'm going to be here for a while, why don't you tell me your name? You know mine, I should know yours," Elizabeth said.

"You can call me...Alan."

"All right Alan," Elizabeth said. "I assume we've met before. Can you tell me where?"

"You don't remember."

"I meet a lot of people in my line of work."

"Your _former_ line of work. I'm sure Yvonne is more than capable of running the business."

"She's quite competent but we work best as a team," Elizabeth said.

"Not anymore! You're going to stay here, with me, so forget you had a life outside that room!" 

The intercom clicked off and Elizabeth took a shaky breath. +You heard that?+

-Every word.-

 

"A bit volatile, isn't he?" Neal said. He sighed. "And I'd bet my stash - if I had one - that his name isn't Alan."

"Yeah," Peter said. "But we know he's been watching us at least since I got your case."

"That's been what? At least ten, twelve years now?" Diana asked. She read the note again. "Maybe that's what he meant by 'You've had her long enough.' He obviously thinks you don't deserve her..."

"Can't say I disagree with that," Peter said, his mouth curved in a somewhat rueful smile.

+Peter Burke! Don't you even go there. I say who deserves me and I've chosen you every day for the last sixteen years. Don't you forget that, hear me?+

-Loud and clear.-

"It's good to know she's holding up well," Neal said. "Well enough to read you the riot act."

"Elizabeth's a strong woman," Jones said.

"She is, but if she stays...wherever...for long, it'll start to wear on her," Peter said.

"If she was completely isolated like this Alan character thinks she is, I'd agree with you," Neal said. "Like you told me at the very beginning, when this thing became two way, we don't have to be in physical contact." He smiled a little. "You also said it would come in handy in the field."

"And it has," Peter said.

+All right, all of you. You need to get some sleep. We've all been up for more than twenty four hours.+

Peter sighed and stood. "We've just been given our marching orders," he said.

"She tell you to go home and get some sleep?" Diana asked.

"She told all of us to," Neal said. "And she's right. If we can't keep our eyes open, we're not going to get anything done."

 

Elizabeth woke to the sound of rumbling, momentarily disoriented by where she found herself. Immediately, she reached for Peter and Neal only to find the bed beside her empty. Then it all came back - her kidnapping, Alan, how she was stuck there until they figured out where she was and came for her. +Peter? Neal?+

-Still here, hon. I'm glad you got some rest.-

+Bed's too big and too empty. Used to three.+

-So are we. Have you eaten yet?-

+No, but I think my breakfast just arrived.+ She slid out of bed and went over to the wall where the dumbwaiter was located and slid open the door to find a pot of coffee and a plate containing a bagel, eggs over easy and hash browns. +Have you two eaten yet?+

*Just finished. You know I'll take care of him until you come home.*

+I know you will. Take care of each other for me, okay?+ She paused in her eating, hearing Peter's thoughts switch into agent mode. +You want me to look for cameras?+

-He didn't go through all this trouble to put you somewhere and not be able to see you.-

+What are the most likely places?+

*Corners, up near the ceiling. That would give the largest field of view.*

She felt him hesitate. +Neal?+

*Depending on how...interested he is, you might want to check in the bathroom - shower head, in the medicine cabinet, over the door.*

To Elizabeth's credit, she didn't let her disgust and unease show. What they'd said made sense. She finished her breakfast and returned the dishes to the dumbwaiter then went to the window, pulling aside the heavy drapes. In the light of day, she saw a view that could be seen from dozens of hotels and apartments in the city. No landmarks but she was almost sure she saw the side of the Empire State Building.

*If it is, you're definitely in Midtown.*

 

"So what's his point?" Jones asked when they convened in the conference room later that morning.

"Maybe that he'd see her more than I did, especially when I was chasing Neal," Peter said. "Maybe he's just a sick fuck."

"I vote for the second," Neal said. "Anyway, if it _was_ the Empire State Building she saw then she's somewhere in Midtown. I know, I know, still a lot of area , thousand of places she could be. So let's start narrowing it down a little."

"Well, I think we can eliminate the hotels like you said, " Diana said. "Too public and they'd never allow the modifications done to the room. Not to mention, with room service they wouldn't need the dumbwaiter."

"Condos and apartments?" Jones asked.

"Maybe," Peter said thoughtfully. "But like the hotels, landlords would probably not allow the modifications. At least in rented apartments. Condos maybe since they're the property of the tenant."

"If it is a condo then the dumbwaiter is probably a holdover from when the building was a single family home," Jones said.

"Yeah, but it probably would have been removed or blocked up," Neal said. "This one works. He expects Elizabeth to be in there for a long time so he has to have a way to get things in and out of the room - the dumbwaiter."

Peter located a map of Greater Manhattan and spread it out over the table. "Okay, Midtown, possibly near enough to the Empire State Building that she saw part of it." He conferred with Elizabeth for a moment then indicated the area west of the landmark. "Somewhere over here. She also thinks she can see Penn Station. Again, she's not completely sure."

"Better than we had before," Jones said. "That eliminates more than half the island."

Peter and Neal went still, their attitude that of listening to a conversation across the room.

"Boss?"

Peter held up a finger, indicating she stay quiet.

 

"I hope you enjoyed your breakfast, Elizabeth. I bet your husband never did that for you."

"You'd be wrong," Elizabeth said. She sighed. "Peter's a good man," she said. "I don't understand why you dislike him so much."

"A good man doesn't ignore his wife in favor of some criminal of the week, Elizabeth. He has no idea what a gem you are, how you deserve to be treated like a queen, waited on, your every wish granted."

"You want to give me what I want? Well, I want out of here. I want to go home," Elizabeth said, anger coloring her tone.

"This is your home now. I did all of this for you. I knew you were special the first time I saw you."

"When was that?"

"Years ago. At an event." There was a pause then a change of subject. "My great grandfather built this house. Used only the best materials, the best decorators, the best of everything. That's what you deserve Elizabeth, nothing but the best. And I can give it to you."

"Money's never been that important to me," Elizabeth said.

"But over time it fell into disrepair," Alan said, ignoring her comment. "Fortunately the family fortune allowed me to restore it to its former glory. Oh, I made a few...discreet modifications..."

"Like the Lexan windows," Elizabeth said, knowing Peter and Neal were listening and, through them, Diana and Jones.

"You'd be surprised at how many windows I've had broken by birds," Alan said. "It took a while but it was worth it."

"I'm sure it's lovely," Elizabeth said. "Too bad I won't get to see it."

"If I let you out, you'll leave, you'll run."

"Because I want to be with Peter, my friends," Elizabeth said.

"One thing I want to make perfectly clear, Elizabeth. You will _never_ mention his name again when I'm talking to you. He's no longer a part of your life."

Elizabeth, aware he could probably see her, kept her smirk from showing. 'If only you knew,' she thought.

-He'd never believe it anyway.-

+No, he wouldn't.+

She let her gaze drift around the room, looking for the cameras she knew almost had to be there but giving no indication that she was looking, keeping in mind what Neal had said. Within minutes, she spotted one up in the corner on the right side of the bed, another on the left - in each corner, she discovered. The room was completely covered. +You were right about the cameras.+

-The bathroom? I wouldn't put it past this guy.-

As casually as she could, she went into the bathroom, making a show of perusing the contents of the medicine cabinet - toothpaste, toothbrush, a few bars of soap, generic pain relievers, band-aids, mouthwash... Just as she was about to close it, she saw it. It wasn't big, barely noticeable unless one was looking for it - a small hole in the back of the cabinet about her eye level. +I'd bet it's the same type mirror you have in the interrogation room.+

-You'd probably be right.-

"I bet this is nothing like you had at your old house."

"That's true," Elizabeth said, seeing the intercom box on the wall near the door. 'Because my husband doesn't have cameras installed in the house. He has no reason to spy on me.'

 

"So how do we narrow this down further?" Jones asked.

Neal looked at his partner. "Peter," he said. "Penelope Garcia."

"Who's that?' Diana asked.

"Someone who knew Moz back in the day," Neal said. "Hacker recruited by the BAU as a technical analyst."

"The BAU? They're the ones who find serial killers," Diana said. 

"We helped them on a case a few years ago," Peter said. "Unsub was murdering wealthy men in their homes, leaving behind rings as a signature."

"Penelope and Moz figured out how he was getting past security," Neal said. "When it comes to computers and getting information, she's one of the best."

 

"Penelope Garcia, queen of the grid. If you can't find it, I can."

"Interesting..." Jones commented.

"Ms. Garcia, this is Peter Burke of the New York white collar division."

"Oh, hello Agent Burke, sir. It's been a while. Wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"We have a case we could really use your help on, if you would," Peter said.

"Of course. What do you need?"

"Could you do a search for buildings in Midtown Manhattan built between eighteen seventy and nineteen hundred?"

There was the faint clicking of a keyboard, then, "Wow, that's a lot. Give me more."

"Eliminate those converted to hotels, apartments and condos," Neal said.

"Okay...still too many. What else?"

"How many in the area between Penn Station and the Empire State Building?"

"Still dozens. What else you got?"

"Restored in the last...fifteen years."

"Down to about thirty."

"How many used Lexan?" Jones asked.

"Oh, hello, new person," Garcia said. "That would be...twelve."

"Crosscheck with purchases of surveillance cameras, home security types," Neal said.

"Ohh-kay, down to seven."

"How many in the same family for at least four generations?" Diana asked.

"Another new person, hello. Down to three."

"He said he saw her," Peter said. "Years ago, at an event. Ms. Garcia, crosscheck with venues used by Burke Premier Events. I'm betting that's when it was."

"You think she used his house as a venue?" Jones asked.

"She used a lot of private homes for events in the early years," Peter said.

"I have it Agent Burke," Garcia said. "Mark Alan Gaines. Spent two years restoring the family home twelve years ago...purchased cameras _and_ Lexan six months ago, installed by a private contractor...hosted a house-warming party organized by Burke Premier Events..." A quick intake of breath. "Sir? Has something happened to your wife?" They could hear her concern over the speaker.

"She was taken two nights ago," Peter said.

"Oh sir, I'm so sorry. She's a wonderful woman, made me quiche...I really like her. I'll send the address to your cell."

"Thank you, Ms. Garcia," Peter said. "I appreciate your help."

"Good luck, sir," Garcia said then disconnected.

"So, how do we get in?" Jones asked. "We have no proof he's holding her so no grounds for a warrant."

Peter took note of Neal's expression, one he was very familiar with, one he got when he was planning a job, a con. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"You _know_ what I'm thinking," Neal said.

"But they don't," Peter said, indicating Jones and Diana. "So let's hear it."

"House that old probably has some historical significance," Neal said. "And from what we heard, he's very proud of it..."

"Proud enough to want to show it off?" Diana asked, catching on.

"Maybe," Neal said. "What I'm thinking is we go in a members of the New York Historical Society looking for a venue to hold a benefit."

"If he agrees to let us look around, he's not going to let us anywhere near where he's holding Elizabeth," Jones said.

"But that's where this thing comes in handy," Peter said. "El's pretty sure she's on the second floor. Houses that old had servants' quarters on the third or fourth. He'd have her on the second since he'd think those aren't good enough for her."

"He said he restored it," Neal said. "You don't make major changes to a restored building - you put it back to the way it was originally. Peter's right. She's most likely on the second floor since there's too great a chance of someone seeing her if she's on the first. Too great a chance she could get word out about what's going on."

"So we get on the second floor and you can tell her to start making noise," Jones said. "Only one problem: he knows what you look like. He'd never let you in."

Peter let out a frustrated sigh. "Damn it."

"Oh...oh, I think I know how you can do it," Diana said, sounding excited. "One of you has to be there to let Elizabeth know, right?"

"Go on," Peter said. 

"So, here's my idea. Two members of the Historical Society - one of you and either me or Jones..."

"But he knows us," Neal said.

"Not if you're in disguise," Diana said. "I have a friend who does make up and prosthetic work for off Broadways shows. Once she gets done with you I doubt even Elizabeth would recognize you."

"You think she'd do it?" Peter asked.

"For the chance to do a job for the Bureau? Yeah," Diana said.

"So which one of you?" Jones asked.

"Neal," Peter said. "It's more your area of expertise. Not to mention your other skills."

"He has her locked in," Neal said. "Good thing I kept my kit."

"When can you bring your friend in?" Peter asked Diana.

"I'll give her a call right now," Diana said, leaving the room.

+You'll have to let me see what you look like...after.+

*I'm sure you'll know it's me but I can do that.*

+So, Penelope helped you find where I am.+

*She's the best at this sort of thing once she knows what you're looking for. You helped. A lot.*

-Do you remember the house? I know it was years ago...-

+I think so. I'd have to see the outside.+

-Hopefully, that'll be soon. Diana's calling her friend.-

About five minutes later, Diana came back with the news. "She's between jobs right now so she can be ready whenever you need," she said.

"She has everything she needs?" Neal asked. "If not, I can probably get it for her."

"She has her own kit," Diana said. "So she's good."

-Can you handle one more day? It's getting late.-

+I can do that. I'll be waiting. Just let me know when.+

-Love you. See you soon.-

+Love you both.+

 

The following morning, Diana came in with her friend in tow, a rather petite woman with short black hair, blue eyes and a pleasant demeanor. "You're Neal?" she asked. When he nodded, she hefted her cases and said, "Let's get started. Where can I set up?"

"Interrogation," Peter said. "Should be enough room in there for you."

"If you'll come with me..." Neal said, taking one of her cases and ushering her out.

As Neal was busy getting transformed, Peter, Diana and Jones went over the plan - Neal and Diana would approach Gaines about providing the venue for the benefit and asking if perhaps they could get a tour. They were confident he would agree since Elizabeth had told them he'd spent hours describing the house to her. Once they were on the second floor, Neal would tell her to start making noise. From the blueprints and from Elizabeth's description, they knew she was on the second floor, northeast corner. Once they heard Elizabeth, Diana would drop cover and put Gaines under arrest.

"Now we have to wait for Neal to get finished," Jones said as they wrapped up.

"You would be referring to Neal Caffrey," a voice said from the door.

There was silence as the three agents got a good look at the man standing thee. He had Neal's general build but his shoulders were a little broader, he was older, perhaps mid-forties, early fifties, his hair was a light blonde and his eyes a deep green. To complete the look, his suit was of a conservative cut and color and a simple wedding ring adorned his ring finger.

+Wow. She's _good._ We'll have to get you a real one of those.+

*Elizabeth...*

-She's right. We should. Won't be legal....-

"This is...wow," Diana said. "This is fantastic, Clara."

"Always nice to have my work appreciated, Di," Clara said. "I assumed you didn't want anything too out there so I just made him look older, toned him down a little." She looked at Neal critically. "The make up is designed to last three or four hours under stage lights so it should last at least that long under natural light." She reached up and smoothed out a barely noticeable wrinkle by Neal's ear and nodded. "Okay, you're good to go," she said. "Break a leg."

 

Elizabeth sat up, frowning a little as Neal showed her the house he and Diana were approaching. *Elizabeth? Anything?*

She drew a quick breath. +Yeah, I recognize it. A few years after I started the business. We were contracted to plan a house-warming party there...here. It had just been restored and he wanted to show it off. He's been watching us that long?+

*You, anyway. He's been planning this for at least six months.*

+Are you inside?+

*Yeah but it may be a little while. He's giving us the grand tour.* 

+Let me know when you're close.+

*That's the plan.*

 

For Elizabeth, the wait was interminable before she heard voices on the other side of the door and she crossed the room, pressing her ear tight against the wood.

*Elizabeth...whenever you're ready.*

In response, Elizabeth kicked the door as hard as she could, ignoring the shock that went up her leg and started yelling at the top of her lungs. "Let me out of here, you son of a bitch!" She kept kicking and yelling until she heard something hit the floor then faintly, "No! You can't take her! She's MINE! Elizabeth!"

"Shut up!"

She almost cried when she heard jiggling in the lock for a few seconds and the door finally opened.

"Time to go home, Elizabeth."

"Neal," she breathed, wrapping her arms around him. She looked past him to see Diana none too gently hauling someone down the hall to the stairs. "That's him? That's who's been watching us?"

"That's him," Neal said, pulling off the wig he wore. "Mark Alan Gaines, soon to be prisoner number whatever. Peter's going to charge him with whatever he can make stick."

-Hon?-

+I'm okay. I just want to go home.+

-I'm right outside.-

 

Elizabeth blinked in the bright afternoon sun as Neal led her out, her eyes immediately going to Peter as he strode toward them. Without a word, he pulled her close and claimed her mouth in a deep kiss.

"Hi, hon," she said a little breathlessly when he released her.

"Hi, hon," Peter repeated. He brushed her hair back. "You know, you should really stop this getting kidnapped. First Keller, now Gaines..."

"Well, if it ever happens again - and hopefully it never will - I know you two will find me."

"Come on, let's go home," Peter said, escorting her to the car.

"And I'll get you that glass of red you wanted," Neal said as they buckled up. "Then I'm going to make you the most extravagant, sumptuous welcome home dinner you've ever had."

"Thank you sweety but right now I just want to go home and relax with my boys," Elizabeth said. " _After._ I want to see him."

"Are you sure?" Peter asked, concerned.

"Peter, he kidnapped me, kept me from my home, kept me from both of you," Elizabeth said, "I'm sure."

With a nod, Peter turned the car toward the Federal Building. The trip was short and they were soon pushing through the doors on the twenty first floor.

"He's in interrogation, Boss," Diana said. "Elizabeth."

"Thank you Diana," Elizabeth said.

"It was mostly those two," Diana said, nodding to Neal and Peter. "And you."

When she sat across the table from Gaines, she took the opportunity to really look at him. He was perhaps in his mid thirties, light brown hair and eyes and dressed nicely - not as nicely as Neal usually did but not shabbily.

"Elizabeth..."

"Quiet," Elizabeth said. "I don't care who you are or how much money you have, I am _not_ a thing to be locked away. I have my own life, a life I love, with people I love and _you_ are nobody to decide it's not good enough. I chose Peter to spend the rest of my life with, I chose Neal as a friend and I chose the life I live."

"You deserve better! I can give it to you..."

"You don't get to decide that," Elizabeth said sharply. "And if having everything I could ever ask for means I have to stay cooped up in a couple rooms, then no thanks, I don't want it. I have everything I want and everything I need."

Without another word, she stood and left, missing the look of anger that flashed across his face. Peter, however, did see it and said, "You didn't actually think she'd be okay with what you had planned, did you?" he asked. He leaned forward a little. "She never would have been, no matter how long you had her. She's too independent."

"You don't know that," Gaines said disdainfully. "I doubt you know her at all. All those days on the road, all those late nights trying to catch some criminal when she was waiting for you at home..."

"I know my wife better than you could ever hope to," Peter said. "She understands the job is important to me but not more important than she is. If you accept nothing else, accept the fact that that was the last time you'll ever lay eyes on her."

"She'll be at my trial," Gaines said a bit smugly. "You can't stop me from seeing her then."

"You think so?" Peter asked casually. "There's this thing called a video deposition. Perfectly admissible in court. So, yeah, hope you got a good look because that's the last you'll get. You'll be behind bars for a long time on the kidnapping charge and I'll stick you with harassment if you so much as send her a post card, try to call her or even if she just hears your name while you're inside." He checked his watch. "Right now, our techs are pulling apart that room. They'll find the cameras you installed and the video I'd bet you recorded so that means a voyeurism charge as well."

"How'd you find her?' Gaines asked.

Peter smiled pleasantly. "That's the job," he said as he stood. "And I'm _good_ at it. I did catch Neal Caffrey after all." He nodded and left the room.

*No need to rub it in...*

-But you don't mind that I caught you.-

*But you still like to chase me...*

+Boys...we can continue _that_ line of thought at home. Besides, I miss my dog too.+

 

After Satchmo tried to wash her face in greeting, Elizabeth snuggled on the couch with Peter and a glass of wine while Neal was busy in the kitchen and Satchmo was sacked out on the floor. "It's so good to be home," she said, laying her head on Peter's shoulder.

"Well, we'll do our best to make sure it never happens again," Peter said, giving her a light squeeze. "He treated you all right?"

"Other than keeping me locked up and ...oh, yeah, the spying on me, yeah, he did," Elizabeth said. She ran a bare foot over Satchmo's side, causing the dog to let out a very contented sounding sigh.

"He missed you as much as we did," Peter said. "He knew something wasn't right."

"Dogs are like that with their humans," Neal said. "Plus, he was picking up on what we were felling. Now, the promised welcome home dinner."

 

Elizabeth groaned as she fell back on the bed, full from the near banquet Neal had prepared. "That just might tide me over for the next week," she said, unable to gather the energy to get ready for bed.

"You don't worry about that," Peter said as he and Neal undressed her - Neal removing her shoes and Peter sitting her up to remove her shirt. "Do you want to keep these?" he asked, referring to the clothes she wore - "gifts" from Gaines.

"Ugh. Not a chance," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Good, then you won't mind if I do this," Peter said, sliding his fingers between the buttons and pulling the shirt open, scattering the buttons across the room. "We'll find them later," he said against her neck.

Meanwhile, Neal nudged her hips up and peeled the slacks down her legs. Despite the intimacy of the act there was nothing sexual about it and he tossed them into a corner before lifting her legs onto the bed. He stood to leave the room, to allow them privacy but Elizabeth caught his hand. "Stay," she said. "I missed you both."

Neal looked to Peter, who nodded and he quickly stripped and put on a pair of sleep pants before sliding into bed, watching appreciatively with Elizabeth as Peter did the same. Finally, after three days, they were all together again and Peter wasted no time in showing Elizabeth how much he missed her. After a quick kiss for Neal, he focused all his attention on his wife and soon had her gasping through the first orgasm. "Not done yet," Peter said as he gentled her. "We have three days to catch up on."

Elizabeth groaned but didn't stop him as he slid down her body to bury his face between her legs. Her hands met Neal's in Peter's hair as he sucked and licked her to another climax.

"Your turn next," she said breathlessly. "I missed that too." Her eyes widened a little as she caught the thought from both of them. "Why?"

"We couldn't," Peter said. "Not without you here."

"It wouldn't have felt right," Neal said. "You're part of this, part of _us_ , so..." He suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a rather less than chaste kiss from Elizabeth and he froze for a moment. *Elizabeth?*

"I needed that," Elizabeth said. "Just this once, okay?" When he nodded, she said, "Now it's your turn." She pushed him to his back and then rolled Peter over her and practically on top of Neal. "Show me."

"You heard her," Neal said, pulling him down and capturing his mouth.

Elizabeth reached for the lube when she felt they were ready and watched with satisfaction and contentment as Peter first prepared then sheathed himself inside Neal, clasping his hand as he began thrusting. It was over too soon for her but she didn't mind, knowing they had time. After helping Neal clean up, she climbed between them, pulled their arms around her and closed her eyes. +My boys.+

-Love you, hon.-

*Love you.*

+Love you both.+


End file.
